


The Greatest Need

by Notalentdouchebag



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 21st Century, Dark Merlin, Gen, Loss, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notalentdouchebag/pseuds/Notalentdouchebag
Summary: Merlin has lost all hope of bringing Arthur back. But there still might be something that could be done.





	The Greatest Need

Merlin cast a woeful glance at the lake as he passed by, having broken the habit of staying and staring into the water since ages. He had promised himself not to linger around the place much for all it brought to him was painful memories. Too old he was now but the memories were still fresh as if all of it had happened yesterday. In all those years of wretched patience and miserable existence the only thing that gave him hope was that water in which he had drowned his heart long ago; not once but twice.

   There was nothing left to do. He had done each and everything that could have been done; there were no new ideas now, no fresh starts. How many things can one do in a thousand years? Many.  How many of those things proved to be of use? None. He hadn’t lost all hope yet but he wasn’t sure of the prophecy coming true either, for a score of them had already been proven to be wrong in all these years. He had toiled for putting Albion in need in every way possible, put everything around him in danger, initiating wars that got thousands of people killed heck even almost killing Gwen; all that madness for that one prophecy that he was now thinking to be turning out wrong too.

    But then when hasn’t he been mad about fulfilling his destiny? He had failed once but could not bear to fail again; or so he thought. Without any context of success there is no failure. He had been running around creating havoc in every way possible for something that just existed because he believed it; or because someone foretold it. But then when had he not seen foretellings gone wrong. That very destiny he was foretold about did not come true, now had him in shambles, all alone in this world where he did not belong.

   The urge to look back and stay for a while overcame him as it always did but he kept walking to catch the bus trying to distract himself by thinking about his show in the evening. The greatest sorcerer to ever roam the face of the Earth was now a rough looking old man doing magic shows. The sarcasm laden cranky old wizard that Arthur had dealt with was more of an arrogant cynical senex now.

    He checked his bag again as he sat in the bus to see if he still had it. He had been robbed a couple of times on the road in past few years and had to lose rare and expensive materials. It wasn’t easy to find the proper herbs and materials nowadays; finding the proper supplies was more of a treasure hunt now and everything was just too expensive. This never-ending life was already hard and these new world shenanigans made it even harder for him. But not everything was that bad. He could use magic openly and get paid for it while people clapped and told each other what skill of hand the old trickster had. These things he had just bought were for the transformation potion and for an experiment. An old man needs his entertainment after all. Time had come again for a transformation as he has been living in that neighborhood for quite some time now and people were waiting for his parting, specially the old crone that lived upstairs. She will be happy in some days when the old magician would be gone. Another transformation, new face, new apartment, same misery.

—————————————————————–

   He threw himself on the couch upon reaching the apartment after drinking a glass of water and picking up one of the very old books of spells Gaius had once given him, trying to find some other way of creating a menace. He knew all the spells, all the potions, all the things that could be done by his power, still he rummaged through the spell books hoping to find anything new. He threw the book on the small table beside the couch cursing that damned dragon.

_Why did he always had to talk in riddles that damned creature?_ Merlin thought.

_Why can’t he ever just tell what was what rather than telling all those ridiculous puzzles._

   He could have at least given a hint before flying away forever about the supposed _greatest need of Albion_. He had to bring upon all that misery, all those riots, those wars, those massacres that he always dreaded, to create such a mayhem so the king will have to rise. That doomed day of departure from his destiny had taken away every inch of compassion and empathy from the playful bright-eyed warlock and replaced it with pure madness, pure evil. So many people had died in vain so that he may bring back Arthur but he did not care for anyone and now the thought of being an idiot crossed him more than it ever did.

Arthur had always been right, he was an idiot.

—————————————————–

   It was six in the evening and he had one hour till the show and he was still not in the mood of getting ready. Mainly because he had to go there again; to the lake for the theatre was just behind the lake of Avalon. Secondly because he didn’t really need to do much preparation for these petty tricks were nothing for him. He finally opened his bag to take out the supplies he had got for the experiment. A dry chuckle left his throat as he placed them in different containers. He took his dragon blade out of his pocket and stared cutting some fruits to eat before the show; the beautiful dagger he got forged by Aithusa as with his enemies long dead, served for slaying fruits and vegetables as well as for unneeded protection now.  

What a pity.

———————————————————

   The show went great. It had been a long time since he had been a part of such a civilized show as not even the unruly teenagers present shouted things like ‘fake’, ‘I can do this trick better’ or that ‘he works with demons’ sort of things. It had been a good day today except for one thing; he had to be around the lake twice that day. He managed to get away with the urge to stay in the morning but he couldn’t help staying by the lake after the show ended.

   The tranquil water of the lake seemed like death under the full moon. _Death it was._ He stared hard into the water, trying to penetrate the surface with his gaze; trying to find any trace of Arthur.

   All of it started coming back. The journey, his confession of being a magician, Arthur’s confusion, his death- everything came rushing back as always. Tears stung his hooded eyes as needles of fire.

_Don’t be ridiculous Merlin!_

_You never once sought any credit?_

_I don’t want you to change_

_I want you to be always you-_

 

  Only if Arthur knew that he won’t be the same once he is gone. Arthur was gone and so was the Merlin he knew. Now standing here was an old sorcerer Emrys which people have feared all those years; the Emrys that became synonymous for bad luck and disaster.

   The reel of _I should haves_ had started in his brain now for that was what came after the _what happened_ reel.  

 

_I should’ve killed Morgana when I had the chance_

_Why didn’t I listen to Kilgharrah about Mordred and Morgana?_

_Why did I tell Arthur to decline the offer of the three Goddesses?_

_Why am I always so stupid?_

_Why did Arthur had to die?_

_Why can’t I die???_

   A current surged through his body. Why didn't this thought ever cross his mind? All those centuries and this simplest thing never occurred to him. He looked around; a couple of people were walking down the street quite far from him. He reconsidered his idea for a moment, took his coat off and jumped into the water wishing no one heard the splash.

   He felt the frigid water hitting him in his bones. He took out his dragon forged dagger from his trousers’ pocket, stuck his head out of the water, drew a long breath and stabbed himself in the heart. There wasn’t anything a dragon blade cannot kill!

He just felt a tingling pressure as the ten-inch-long blade entered his chest.

    A disappointed, whispery ‘what’ escaped his lips. Blood started gushing as he pulled the blade out. He gave out a little scream as now his disappointment faded away for he felt a blazing pain in his chest that he had never experienced before. He stabbed himself again as he wasn’t feeling like dying even with such loss of blood and pain.

Now he was.

   The second stab brought an unimaginable pain and he felt his soul being torn with metal thorns.  

As he was losing sense of himself, he heard a splashing sound.

_Bollocks_ he thought, _someone on the road saw me-_

_Let me die for heaven’s sake_

   Floating on the water darkened by his blood, he saw a silhouette rushing to him. He tried to swim away but his strengths were gone. The person grabbed him brusquely and started swimming to the lake’s edge.

Everything went almost black when Merlin heard the man say something.

_**‘Oh Merlin, you idiot’.** _

——————————————————————————————

 


End file.
